


Common Grounds.

by TheMirkyKing



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Attraction, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Tolkien Secret Santa 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMirkyKing/pseuds/TheMirkyKing
Summary: Thranduil shares some wine and gives Bard something to consider.





	Common Grounds.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Tolkien Secret Santa 2017 exchange for @nexttime-yourinvitepam on Tumblr! Merry Christmas, I hope you enjoy it!

Bard leaned back and with a low groan, stretching his legs out towards the fire and let his head fall back, arms dangling at his sides, eyes closed, taking a moment to simply relax. What he wouldn’t give for a bath, he thought. A real bath, not the ones that were currently set up for the ragged inhabitants of New Dale. Not that he was complaining, they served their purpose, but having a rapid wash in tepid and dirty water, while a line of men waited for their turn, was not his idea of relaxing. And relaxing was also pretty rare. Bard contemplated that. 

He worked harder now then he had before the Battle. Sure, life had never been easy, but all he had to worry about was his family then. Why was it he seemed to be the one person that everyone looked to? He had already refused the honor of being named Master. Still, he helped organizing and aiding others, which only reinforced others to look to him. He sighed heavily. It really was his own fault. 

“May I join you?” Lord Thranduil’s deep voice interrupted his musings. Bard scrambled to his feet, not wanting to insult the Elven King with slouching. Bard nodded, who was he to refuse? Bard quickly cleared off the only other chair in ramshackle room that he used as his work space . It was cluttered with papers, tools, (and to his embarrassment), dirty clothing that he had shed and not bothering to taken to be cleaned in the make-shift home that he and his children shared. He spent much too much time in this room he realized. 

“It sounds like you could use a drink, I know I do!” Thranduil said giving Bard a cool smile as he came over, lifting up a large decanter of wine and two glasses he had with him. While they had fought together, Bard was still awed by the tall elf, and keenly aware that he only a bargeman. Not fit company for the King of the Woodland realm and any other feelings he felt, he dismissed. But as always, Bard couldn’t stop himself from marveling at the elf. 

Thranduil’s long pale hair was braided and he wore clothing that Bard had never seen him in. He looked more like the elves that helped with the wine barrels he delivered. Gone were the royal robes, here sat a wood elf, in earthy colors and with what looked like dirt smudged on face and hands. What had the Elven King been up to he wondered. 

Instead of asking, instead he formally said, “That is very kind of you King Thranduil, it would be an honor.” Thranduil rolled his eyes and waved him to sit.

“Please Lord Bowman, call me Thranduil.” Bard started at the title but sat as Thranduil poured the dark red wine into a glass and handed it to him. Thranduil poured himself some and raised it in a toast. “The honor is mine!” 

“It’s just Bard, King…um…Thranduil, the title of Lord belongs to another.” Bard replied after sipping. “I am only a bargeman.” 

“You may have been a that once, but those days are behind you.” Thranduil said as he sat back, letting his long legs stretch like Bard’s had been moments before. 

“What makes you think that?” Bard frowned, trying to ignore the shape of the elf’s legs.

“Because it is the truth. There is more to you then your grim demeanor suggests!” Thranduil stated. Bard snorted at this. Thranduil arched a dark brow at him. “Just as there is more to me then my icy and arrogant manner.” 

Bard choked on his wine, shooting the elf a startled look. Thranduil laughed. “What? Do you think I do not know what other say about me? And they are right, I am cold and calculating, something that a ruler must be sometimes. Your “grim” ways will stand you in good measure when the time comes.” 

Bard shook his head. “I am no ruler…”

“There you are wrong!” Thranduil poured him more wine. “Already your people look to you, not the Master, for guidance. Ruling is in your blood, Lord Bowman, whether you want it or not, you better get used to it!” 

“Why? Because I slayed a dragon?” Bard protested. “Because I “look” the part?” Bard scoffed in denial. Thranduil shook his head at him.

“To some extent, yes, but more so because the blood of Girion flows in you, and you know it!” Thranduil said in exasperation.

“True…” Bard said reluctantly. “But blood alone does not make a king!” 

“Yes, that is true.” Thranduil admitted, studying Bard. “Why do you see me as a king but not yourself?”

Bard blinked at the question. Thranduil sat there with an amused smile. Bard licked his lips, trying to reply without giving offense. 

“Well….you…you rule a vast realm, and your father was king...” Bard stammered. Thranduil flinched at this.

“Stop! If your only argument on why I am king is due to secession, then it is moot point. By that logic, you are already fit to rule.” Thranduil leaned forward. “You and I are not so very different, aside from our heritage, we are very much alike.” 

Bard scoffed at the idea of them being alike, giving Thranduil a skeptical look. 

“We both have faced a dragon…” Thranduil began Bard gasped at this, not having realized this. Thranduil waved a hand to forestall further questions. “That is for another time. We were husbands, we are both fathers. We have raised children, faced heart ache and joy. And we have taken on the mantle of ruler when it was thrust upon us, even if we were not ready for it! And we wish to see our family and people safe and healthy. So tell me Bard, are we really that different?”

Bard slowly shook his head. Put in that manner, they weren’t different at all. “No….no I guess not.” Bard admitted slowly. Thranduil gave a curt nod and focused on the fire as he drank. Bard observed Thranduil, seeing a sorrow there. 

Bard was aware of the falling out between Legolas and Thranduil, centered around the fact that Thranduil’s Captain Tauriel had actually confronted the King with drawn bow! Once the war was over, the rumors of what had happened swept thru the camp. Bard hadn’t taken part in those gossiping, and put a stop to it when it came up. 

What had taken place was none of their business, he had stated. Still he couldn’t stop hearing it. And when the Elven host finally departed, Tauriel had been left behind with a handful of elves which spurred even more speculation. Bard found it amazing that people had the energy or desire to engage in such gossip. There were more important things to focus on, at least in his opinion. Sigrid had laughed at him when he muttered about it. 

“Of course they will gossip!” She had chided him. “For all practical purpose, King Thranduil has exiled her.” Bard mulled that over. 

Tauriel and Legolas had saved his children from orcs, which he was immensely grateful for. Granted they wouldn’t have needed saving if he hadn’t helped those damned dwarves in the first place! Still, Bard felt conflicted over Tauriel’s actions that day. He understood her desire to save Kili but she had also threatened her King. And he also was conflicted about Thranduil’s own actions, his willingness to withdraw his troops, thus leaving them abandoned, yet he could understand him wanting to protect his people. Bard couldn’t blame him for that. Elves might be immortal yet they still died in battle and unlike humans and dwarves, did not reproduce often. 

The more Bard studied the elf and thought about that, the more he was sure Thranduil was unhappy and quite possibly, lonely. It was rather shocking to consider and Bard felt a tug at his heart. He also felt guilty that he had brought on this sober mood. He chewed his inner lip, trying to find a way to lighten the mood. Bard took a sip at the wine and it dawned on him.

“Mmmm…” Bard smacked his lips (yes, a bit crude, but it drew Thranduil’s attention) and he held up the glass to fire, admiring the ruby depths. “Not a Dorwinion, still not a bad drop by any road!”

Thranduil’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he exclaimed, “A bargeman with knowledge of wine! I was right, there is more to you then meets the eye! What other surprises do you have up your sleeve?” Bard flushed at this.

“Well….” Bard hesitated, not sure how Thranduil would react to the truth. Thranduil arched a brow at him, waiting for him to go on. “Well, you see…I was the one who delivered the wine barrels to and from your realm.” 

“Really?” Thranduil gasped. “Did you truly?” 

“Yeah, yeah I did.” 

“And from the look on your face, I take it that you often “sampled” the product you delivered?” Thranduil laughed. Bard rubbed the back of his head, feeling awkward about it. He glanced at Thranduil and gave a sheepish smile.

“I may have taken a sip or two, just to make sure that the wine hadn’t gone off during transport.” 

Thranduil’s laughter trailed off as he stiffened, eyes narrowing at Bard. There it was, the moment he had put two and two together and….

“You wouldn’t have happened to been the bargeman that picked up the barrels which contained those cursed dwarves, now were you?” Thranduil hissed. 

“I may have…” Bard gulped, hastily taking big swig of the wine. “What can I say? How was I to know they were “guest” escaping from your dungeons?” Thranduil lips thinned at this comment and Bard added, “Okay, okay, I knew they must have incurred your wrath but they offered me gold and….” Bard gave a helpless shrug. “How could I pass that up? I have three children and the former Master didn’t exactly share the wealth that flowed from the Woodland Realm!” 

Thranduil exhaled in annoyance then shook his head before a low chuckle escaped him. Bard glanced at him and gave a weak smile. 

“Your right,” Thranduil finally said. “I’m hardly in the position to chastise you for looking to the interest of your family.”

“Why did you throw them into the dungeon in the first place?” Bard dared to ask. Thranduil grimaced at the question. 

“I may or may not have lost my temper with that thick headed Oakenshield.” Thranduil sighed deeply. “Ai, it is wrong to speak ill of the dead.” Bard nodded at this. 

“But…” Bard raised an eyebrow, prompting Thranduil to go on. Thranduil gave a huff.

“It’s not like I didn’t know what Thorin was up to! The woods were full of chatter about them.”

“And there were gems you wanted…”

“There were riches you wanted as well, Bowman!” Thranduil snapped. They stared at each other before Thranduil gritted out, “You’re almost as bad at annoying me as he was!”

Bard stiffened at this. “I beg your pardon, KING Thranduil, if you find me so irksome then feel free to leave!” 

Thranduil rolled his eyes and waved his hand in dismissive way. “No, no, I enjoy your company too much.” 

Bard’s stomach did a flip at that. Thranduil liked his company? Bard didn’t dare look at him. His cheeks took on a rosy hue, he could feel it. Thranduil watched him from the corner of his eye, small smile just starting to form at the way Bard seemed at a loss of words. Poor Bowman, he thought, he really should put him out of his misery. 

“But sadly, I really do need to leave.” Thranduil said, standing up and stretching. “It’s getting late and there is much to do in the morning.” Bard scrambled to his feet, caught off guard by his sudden departure. 

“Thranduil….” Bard began then stopped. Thranduil would probably find the question impertinent. 

“Yes?” 

“I don’t mean to be rude, what with all your people have done for us and…”

“Oh Valar, Bard, just spit it out!” Thranduil barked. 

Bard jumped a bit but gazed up at him. “What have you been doing here?” Bard asked, face perplexed. “Your covered in dirt and well…what are you up to?” 

Thranduil blinked a few times, it wasn’t the question he had expected. Actually, it was better then what he had thought. Bard Bowman was defiantly a leader in the making. Thranduil smiled, closed the distance between them and leaning down to whisper in his ear, “That’s for me to know and you to find out!” He drew back, delighted at the astonished look on Bard’s face before quickly leaving. 

Bard raced to the entrance and shouted, “I was told never ask an elf a question, all you’ll get is the run around!” He heard Thranduil’s laughter and a final retort- “You should have listened to them!” 

Bard shook his head and couldn’t help the smile growing. It seemed that he had some spying to do, and he wasn’t too upset that it involved chasing after the Elven King!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Any comments and kudos always make my day!


End file.
